I read a lot. Okay, maybe not a lot, but about one book per week. I’m grateful to be gifted with the desire to dive into the words of other writers in a quest for entertainment, understanding—basically, an awakening*.

* A Honky’s version of becoming woke.

I find writers, including myself, to be deluded with a doss of narcissistic personality disorder. Where they feel — lucky for the mere mortals walking among us--us—feel might be the wrong word—writers are compelled to share their innermost thoughts, keystroking them out to the world. Writing is an itch, a debilitating curse that can lonely and fear-stoking. Narcissism is often dosed with a crippling smattering of “Am I good enough?”

In that spirit, every book you see in my I Love Itsection: I loved!

I find giving these books a score pointless. I try to share how the books made me feel as opposed to firing out a synopsis. Every book on these pages deserves 5 STARS!--because—who the hell am I to try to tell anyone else what to like? And because, unless the book is filled with hate, writing is hard, writers deserve to be encouraged to keep writing. Unless of course, you suck as a writer, even then, keep writing, one day you might stop sucking.

Anyway, thank you, writers, for having the courage to persevere.

A new potential book title just skipped through my cranium: FUCK THE PLATFORM

And, readers, I, with the utmost confidence, recommend every book you see on these pages because, at the very least, they offer an escape from the daily grind!

The last sentence is a lie. There are a few putrid books that even if they were thrown into a fire--they likely wouldn't burn.

THE ART OF MEMOIRTHE GIRL WITH THE LOWER BACK TATTOOTHE ORPHAN MASTER'S SONTHE CROSSROADSOF SHOULD AND MUSTTENTH OF DECEMBERTHE BEST KIND OF PEOPLETHE NEW ASIAN HOMESUBMARINEWHEN LIFE BECOMES AIRMANHATTAN BEACH